


Click

by gryffindorJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_nextgen_fest, M/M, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16640831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ
Summary: The first time was an honest to goodness mistake. The second time, Albus had his camera and a plan.





	Click

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okydoky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okydoky/gifts).



The first time was an honest to goodness mistake. The second time, Albus had his camera and a plan. 

James had finished school and acquired his own flat at the start of the summer holiday. He told Albus he could drop by any time. Albus had nodded, hiding a smirk. He knew James well enough to realise that "any time" wasn't meant literally; he was fairly sure James had a boyfriend of sorts, despite the fact that James had always been very tight lipped about that sort of thing. What Albus _didn't_ know was that James apparently had more than "a" boyfriend. 

After seeing James with his fourth conquest of the week Albus was convinced that James must be some sort of rent-boy. The better—and more sensible—explanation was James loved cock and, Merlin knows why, but various men apparently found him attractive. 

Albus had determined early evening was the best time to catch James, just after Quidditch training. He would Apparate inside the wardrobe, and within minutes he would know if James was alone or not. James was _not_ a quiet shag and neither were many of the men he brought home. A time or two Albus had heard things that made his stomach turn, but he tucked those things away into the never-think-about-this-again part of his brain. 

He wasn't perversely fascinated with his brother's sex life, or anything sick like that, but James was his older brother, and younger brothers were supposed to spy on their siblings. Cameras were merely optional, and very good for obtaining evidence.

Two days ago, much to Albus's amusement, he had caught James with Oliver Wood. James had Oliver bent over the footboard begging to be fucked _harder_. Albus was rather proud of the photograph he'd snapped of that. Not to mention that Oliver, for an older bloke, was still rather fit and his cock was nearly as thick as Albus's wrist. Who would have ever imagined Oliver, the English National Team Manager, would be the one bottoming for James, newest Chaser for the Tornadoes?

When Albus returned home afterward, he looked through his stack of photos and realised a fair number of James's pulls were Quidditch players. Yes, James played Quidditch and hung about with several players, even from other clubs, but it still seemed odd. For a moment he had another fleeting thought that James was undergoing some sort of team initiation. Albus knew some of these players—having a mum who covered Quidditch for both the _Prophet_ and _Quidditch Weekly_ was a nice benefit—and was pretty sure that they couldn't _all_ be bent. What were the odds? Even more, some of them were in committed relationships with women, including Oliver if Albus remembered correctly. 

James would be in so much trouble if their parents saw these photos. Not that Albus was actually planning on showing them to anyone. He might be a cunning, sneaky bastard, but he wasn't about to instigate a scandal for his own family (Their parents had a somewhat Victorian view of sex). And despite the fact that James could be a stubborn arse and total prick of an older brother at times, Albus did love him.

No. Private and personal manipulation would be much more fun. Albus would get what he wanted the moment James saw these; it would be so easy it hardly deserved the word blackmail. He could probably get a lot more from James for these pictures besides the Marauder's Map, but that's what Albus wanted. James's insisted that it was his, that it didn't matter he wasn’t at Hogwarts anymore he'd nicked it fair and square from Teddy's old school trunk when he was thirteen and so it belonged solely to him. 

Albus grinned to himself. He would merely suggest that the photos would be of interest to the significant others of the men in the photos or, if need be, to the _Prophet_ , and that would be enough for James to relent. He wasn't evil after all, just practical. 

Albus really didn't need more photos, but three-week-old habits died hard, not to mention his sense of innate curiosity, and he once again Apparated ever so quietly into James's wardrobe. 

Albus used his normal charm to make the wardrobe transparent on one side, and it usually gave him the perfect vantage point. That was unless James and his guest were in the kitchen or living area, or even the bathroom. James had one _suitor_ who was keen to press James against the tiles of the shower wall, but he usually missed that unless he showed up early on Sunday mornings. 

What Albus saw next, the word shocked didn't even begin to cover. At first it was just a flash of blond hair. _White_ blond hair, and for almost a nano-second Albus thought he'd caught a glimpse of a receding hairline, but it was just the angle. The person who went with the hair was tall and gangly, coltish limbs splayed out so far that it looked as if he had extra bendy hip joints, and he was moaning like some Hufflepuff overeager to please instead of the upright Slytherin he normally was. Albus almost fell out of the wardrobe but he caught himself just in time. He snapped a single, quick photograph and Apparated as quickly as he could back to his room, ignoring the pounding against his temples and the trickle of sweat down his back. 

Albus wasn't even fully grounded before he was ripping off the back of the camera and putting the film into the developing potion he had in a tray on his desk. The last three photographs Albus had taken slowly swam into view. The first was almost bland: James having his cock sucked by Blaise Zabini, Junior, better known as "BJ"; _everyone_ had been down that road a time or two. No one knew if his name really was Blaise Junior, the nickname fit too well to ever really take that into account. The second was the English Team's Keeper tying James up. The third was going to be—but no it couldn't. Albus must have seen it all completely wrong. He pulled out the photograph, still wet and tacky, heedless of the potion dripping on the neat piles of quills and parchment piled next to the tray on his desk. Albus set his jaw, his teeth grinding audibly, and stared. 

The image mocked him. Scorpius, his best friend, his…his…his _best friend_ , lying flat on his stomach with James pressed up against him, his arm wrapped possessively around Scorpius's chest, his hips pounding furiously against Scorpius's arse over and over and over again. Scorpius, looking back over his shoulder at James, and that look in his eyes… 

Albus let out a strangled scream and kicked the wall as hard as he could. 

*

Albus had been sorely tempted to Apparate immediately back to his brother's flat and hex him stupid. Once he'd regained control of his temper, he decided it was better to wait till later that evening to go back to James's flat. If he was going to kill his brother he'd rather have a cool head about it, and it had taken a good two hours and a splash of whisky in his tea to obtain his level head. 

He stepped out of the Floo, dusting off his jeans, not caring if he spread ash all over James's rug. 

"Hello? Oh, hey," James said cheerfully, peeking around the corner of his kitchen. "I didn't expect you." He walked out looking happily windswept, his cheeks pink and the bridge of his nose covered in a dusting of freckles from the hours spent training out in the sun. He looked rather handsome, which only managed to make the acid in Albus's stomach burn that much more. James glanced quickly at his bedroom door, then looked back at Albus, same easy smile still on his face. 

"I can leave if you're _entertaining_ someone," Albus said coolly. 

"Entertaining? Um, no, not at the moment," James said slowly, giving Albus an odd look. "You thirsty? Beer? Hungry? No, probably not that. You've been home and Grandma has surely been over at least a dozen times telling you you're too skinny, and that Mum doesn't feed you enough when you're home. You won't be hungry for at least another month and a half." 

"Hmph." Albus couldn't be bothered to respond to that, though he was still rather full from his second serving of tea. 

James sat down in a comfortable looking dark leather chair that looked very expensive. Albus gazed at the other furnishings. Although he'd been here before, he'd never actually looked at the flat itself, his attention usually focused on...other things. The couch was some sort of very nice navy blue canvas, with, oh, dear God, _accent_ pillows in various complimentary colours, and his dining table, which Albus could see from here, was a tasteful sort of French Country-looking thing with _red_ seat cushions on the chairs. The flat, for only being lived in three weeks, looked pulled together and very nice. If Albus didn't know better, he would have guessed that Teddy had picked everything out, not James. 

Although Teddy and James were good friends, Teddy wouldn't have time to do things like choose the furnishings for a flat that wasn’t his own. He was too busy with Victoire, or whoever his current girlfriend or boyfriend was; Albus couldn’t be arsed to care about Teddy's rotating social calendar. It was hard enough keeping up with James's exploits. 

James's bloody fucking exploits. His stomach lurched, and he scowled, clenching his fists.

"Did you come by to stand there and glower at my furniture, or did you want something?" James asked, kicking his legs out and resting them on the low table in front of him; it was made from what looked like perfectly distressed beams. 

"Came to show you these," Albus said, handing a photo album to James. 

James quirked a grin and took the album from Albus's hands. To Albus's satisfaction, James's grin quickly faded after the first page. He flipped though it quickly, and his face was hardened and angry by time he got to the end. Albus, watching him carefully, had stepped back to a respectful distance. James's wand lay rigid on the edge of the mantel, so while he couldn't hex him, he could lunge. 

"What do you want?" James said, shutting the book and trying to keep his voice even, but Albus could hear the bubble of anger in his throat. Albus smiled sardonically, though he did have to hand it to his brother; James knew he was clearly up to something to go to such lengths. 

"At first I just wanted the Marauder's Map. Now..." Albus shrugged running his hand along the edge of a table that was decorated with framed photos, mostly of the family. 

"I could just throw it into the fire and tell you to get the fuck out." James made to toss the book towards the fire, but Albus laughed at him.

"You know I've made copies." 

"Bastard." 

"I think that's what I should be calling you."

"Oh, that's rich!" James couldn't feign being cool and collected anymore. He jumped to his feet, dropping the book with a loud thud, and pointed his finger at Albus. "You sneak into my flat and take pictures of me and—and—and how could you? You, more than anyone else, know how hard the last two years were for me! And now I'm done with school, completely happy for the first time, and you have to go and ruin it with your new perverted hobby, all so you can get a bloody map." 

"Oh, right, _Jamie_ , I'm going to show Mum and Dad photos of their son fucking half the wizards they know unless I get that map. You sure are thick," he replied, lacing every syllable with as much scorn as possible, and completely ignoring the fact that his initial plan had been, while not precisely that, at least fairly close to it. "And I'm not the one with the questionable hobby," Albus said, squaring his shoulders, showing he wasn't about to back down. 

James snorted. "Yeah, Al? Tell me, what's my hobby?" 

"I've half a mind to think you're a rent boy," Albus said, wildly grasping for the first thing that came to his mind. James opened his mouth to reply, but then snapped it closed and turned his head towards Albus, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth again to reply, but still nothing came out, he snapped it closed and blinked at Albus. 

Albus narrowed his eyes and grinned in triumph. James was so speechless, he must have guessed correctly. 

"Ha! I knew it! Knew your flat was far too nice. So that's how you were able to afford all this," he said, gesturing at the expensive furnishings.

"Who's thick now? I'm a bloody talented Quidditch player, a _professional_ , you idiot. I'm not some whore. I make damn good money." 

"Sure, that's a very good lie, James," Albus said crossing his arms. "Can't wait for you to tell everyone that. I can see it now. You'll just shrug and say, ever so casually, 'I make plenty, but thought I'd take a page out of Uncle Charlie's book.'"

"Don't talk about Uncle Charlie like that," James snapped. "Damn, _God_ , Albus." James ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm not some reserve team lackey. I was recruited out of school and I'm on the national side. I'm really fucking good, or did you forget the good trouncing I gave Slytherin this past April?" 

Albus narrowed his eyes dangerously at James. He didn't appreciate being reminded of that, nor having James make him feel like an idiot. Albus didn't give two shits if James was a rent boy or a run of the mill slag. He had to regain control of this situation.

"Fine. You make loads and loads of Galleons, so much so that every wizard wants to be you or be fucked by you. That's fine. But explain _this_." Albus took the photograph of James and Scorpius out of his inner pocket; he had omitted it from the album, saving it for the perfect moment. 

James snatched the photo away and looked at it, his eyes narrow for a moment, and then wide with…was that humour? 

"Yeah, so? A drop in the pond compared to the rest." James held the photo out for Albus to take back and Albus recoiled, crossing his arms on his chest and scowling. The less he looked at it, the better. A slow grin spread across James's face, and there was a glint in his eyes that made Albus feel distinctly uncomfortable. 

"You're in a strop because you think I'm shagging your best mate." 

Albus glared at James. "No." James laughed, the fucking bastard. 

"Al, I'm not shagging Scorpius. Never touched him." James's voice was kind, like he was trying to make Albus feel better. It was Albus's turn to laugh, though unlike James's, it was pointedly without humour. 

"I know what I saw. Photographs don't lie," Albus said. "You and him, and why him? He's my best friend." Albus couldn't stay calm any longer. He remembered the picture and the look on Scorpius's face as he gazed back over his shoulder at James. "Does he know? Does he know you're shagging every bloke in sight and him, too? You can't do that to him, James! He's not some piece of arse you can fuck around with just to stroke your bloody ego. The way he _looks_ at you—"

James snorted and rolled his eyes. "What do you mean, the way he looks at me?" 

"Balls, fuck, damn and bugger! If I have to explain one more thing to you this slowly, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's to get your head examined." Albus slid his glasses up and wiped his hand across his eyes. He didn't want to say it, but James wasn't cunning enough to pretend like he didn't know. He gestured at the photograph, still clutched in James's hand. "He _loves_ you, you arsehole! It's all over his face." 

"Bollocks!" James said. He raised his hand and barely glanced at the photo, shaking his head and turning to toss it onto the couch. "He—" James stopped and slowly raised the photo again, staring at it rather shrewdly. His eyes widened for a brief moment, and he suddenly looked like he had taken a good hardy sniff of Amortentia. 

"No! You can't love him too!" Albus yelled, completely losing every shred of dignity he had left, and took a step toward his brother. 

"Albus, Albus, shhhh," James said, holding up his hands placatingly. "You've got it all wrong." 

Albus wanted to punch the stupid grin off James's face. He scowled yet again, and stared down at his clenched fists. 

"It's not that at all. I swear on my broom and my cock's good health that I haven't laid a single finger on Scorpius. I _promise_ you." 

Albus looked up at the word "promise". James, as much of a pain in the arse as he could be, was also disgustingly honourable; in all their years, even when they were younger and James had teased him mercilessly, he had never once broken a promise he'd made to Albus. Not once. Gryffindor to the bloody core. 

Albus's head started to spin; none of this made sense. He felt slightly nauseated as he blindly stepped toward the couch, tripped, and flopped down on it. 

"I don't understand." Albus could not even begin to make heads or tails of this; he knew what he saw. 

"Al," James said, sitting down next to Al. He reached over and tweaked his nose and slung his arm around him affectionately. "Why don’t you take this picture, go to Wiltshire and barge in on Scorpius like you barged in on me. Be angry and demanding, and see where it goes."

"I can't," Albus admitted for the first time out loud, and he despised himself for doing it. The last thing he needed was his ever so _brave_ brother thinking he was a coward. "He's my best friend. That's how he looks at me. His friend. He'd never look at me like this." Albus slapped at the picture still in James's hand. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. 

"You don't know unless you try. Does he know the way you look at him?"

Albus opened his eyes and stared in horror at his brother. Realising his folly, he quickly cleared his throat and schooled his features, silently cursing himself for once again displaying his utter lack of self control.

James shook his head. "Bloody idiot. You can talk to me about these things, you know," he said, squeezing Albus's shoulder. "You really are an arse, you know that? Blackmail. Honestly."

Albus hunched his shoulders, and James tousled his hair. "Cut it out," Al said, pulling away.

James grinned, and settled his arm around Albus's shoulder again, scooting closer. Albus sighed and rested his head against James's shoulder. "I'm so fucked," he muttered. 

"Now who needs that trip to St. Mungo's? Maybe you just _think_ that's how he looks at you. How do you know how he looks at you when _you're_ not looking?" 

"You think?" Albus felt on the verge of perking up again.

"I know all about that sort of thing," James said. "Now come on, brush yourself off, work up that courage I know you've got in there—Slytherin though you may be, you're still a Potter, after all—and go blow down his door. Or at least knock loudly. You don't want his dad naffed off at you. Then when you're all finished there, come back here and Teddy and I'll take you round to the pub and explain it to you." 

"Teddy?" Albus asked, thinking it would be nice to have a couple drinks with his brother and Teddy, who was just as good as. 

"Yes, sure. I'll _owl_ Teddy. Tell him to get over here as soon as possible."

Albus sat up, James's bright words and reassurances suddenly sounding very good to him. 

"Make sure you ask Scorpius why he's been shagging me when he could have you?" 

"I don't want to offend him," Albus said, and James chortled.

"Don't you though? Get him really riled up, see what happens."

"Yeah. Maybe I will at that." Albus stood up, nodding as James led him to the Floo, stuffed the photo in Albus's hand, put a helping of Floo Powder in the other, and clapped him on the back. 

"Good luck little brother, let me know how it turns out," James said brightly. 

Albus threw the powder in and stepped into the flames, his head still spinning a bit at the turn of events. He turned and looked back at James. 

"That thing I said about Uncle Charlie. I wasn't—I didn't, you know—"

"It's all right, Al, I know you didn't mean it. Good luck." 

Albus wasn't sure he would forgive James so easily had he done the same exact thing to him, but he wasn't about to point that out. He was about to thank James, but as he opened his mouth, he caught sight of Teddy standing by the bedroom door, waving at him. 

Albus inhaled sharply, ready to excoriate them both, and coughed explosively as he breathed in a lungful of ash. Right. That could wait till later, then. He'd embarrassed himself enough already today. No matter what happened, he was getting piss drunk tonight, and James was buying. 

"Malfoy Manor," Albus choked out, and with a whoosh he was gone.

*

As Albus disappeared from sight, James couldn't help but chuckle. His brother's clever game had been a complete violation of privacy, and had infuriated him at first, but his conclusion had been so absurd that it was easy to laugh at now. 

"You better get on sending me that owl. Wouldn't want me to be late for a trip to the pub." 

James turned around to see Teddy ambling down the hall towards him. 

"Of course, I'll get right on that," James said. 

Teddy bent and picked up the photo album where James had dropped it, his face calm as he flipped through the pages. "It's nice of Albus to put together such a memento for us," Teddy muttered. 

"He's a right gent," James replied dryly. He wished they were actual pictures of him and Teddy, and not a dozen or so pictures of him and whoever they had decided Teddy should be that particular day. 

"Where's the other one?" Teddy asked as he looked around. "The one he was all up in arms about?"

"Took it with him." 

Teddy smiled tightly and nodded. 

"What was it of, exactly? Or should I say, who?" James didn't know if Teddy was being purposefully obtuse, or if he hadn't heard him and Albus that clearly. 

"You looked like Scorpius." 

"Why was that again?" Teddy cocked his head to the side. 

"Got a notice from the _owner_ of the team saying if I was late to training one more time, I'd be fined. I was naffed off about it when I got home and said something about really wanting to fuck a Malfoy." James felt himself blush a bit, and he laughed to cover the awkwardness. "You—ah-- _obliged_ my request in the form of Scorpius. I swear for a second you looked like Draco though." 

"Right. And what about all the others?" Teddy stared hard at James; it felt like his eyes were boring straight through him. James looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. It felt like he was in—trouble? 

"Well, James, what is it?" Teddy was standing stock-still, his voice was low and dangerous, and James was forcibly reminded that Teddy's dad had been a werewolf. 

"Er." James coughed, trying to buy time, but he'd always been hopelessly honest with Teddy. James took a breath and answered in a rush, "Ithoughtitwasallyouridea." 

James looked up slowly, feeling somewhat guilty. Teddy, if anything, looked surprised. 

"My idea?" Teddy said, raising his eyebrows. 

"Well, yeah." James started feeling much more emboldened now that Teddy looked less wolf-like. "It was over the Easter Hols when I was home. I was over at your place and you said you didn't want anyone else, and that you didn't want me to want anyone else. You were tired of thinking I was shagging all of my classmates—which, by the way, I wasn't really doing much of anyway, not since last summer when we—"

James cleared his throat. "Yeah, you already know what happened in Majorca. Right, then when I agreed with you, you said, 'Besides I can look like whoever you want me to anyway.' After that..." He spread his arms, palms up, and shrugged. "Been a game for us, I suppose." 

"I don't like it." 

"Well, I'm sorry! I thought that's what you _wanted_ —" 

"No, James. Calm down," Teddy said softly, but loud enough so that James stopped talking. "I don't like Albus, people, _anyone_ thinking you're shagging anyone but me." 

Teddy crossed the distance between them, his eyes dark and dangerous, his teeth bared, and his gait so confident and assured that once again James felt like he was the prey of a very canine animal. 

Teddy stopped inches from James, twisted his hands in James's t-shirt and pulled him to him. "You're mine," Teddy growled, and kissed him hard, the demanding, impolite sort that went straight to James's groin. 

"Mine," Teddy said into James's mouth. 

"Mine to bite." Teddy ducked his head and bit James's neck, _hard_. It hurt so much that James couldn't help but gasp. Teddy bit him again, a bit softer this time though not much, and sucked, as if determined to leave a mark behind. James noticed it was in a spot that would impossible hide, which was probably Teddy's intent. 

"Mine to lick." Teddy pushed James's shirt up and swirled his tongue over James's nipples. James moaned, running his fingers through Teddy's hair, and gripping it tightly, gasping when Teddy flicked his tongue... _Oh_!

"Mine to kiss." Teddy raised his head and once again kissed James. This time it was softer, teasing James's tongue ever so delicately from his mouth. That was also the sort of kiss that went straight to James's groin. 

"Mine to talk dirty to," Teddy said. He pressed his lips to James ear, and whispered, "You're such a little cock slut, Jamie, that I'm not even through the door a full minute before you're on you're on your knees sucking me off. 

"You love it when I'm fucking your mouth so hard that you barely have to touch yourself at all before you're coming all over yourself." 

James shivered and licked his lips. Talk of sucking Teddy off, or even better, _sucking_ Teddy off was a sure fire way to make James come embarrassingly quick. Teddy knew exactly what he liked. He shifted his hips, his erection pressing tight against the front of his jeans.

"Mine to undress," Teddy said, pulling James shirt up over his head, and then unbuttoning his jeans, lowering them down to his ankles, and taking a moment to look appreciatively at James's body. Teddy always told him it was everything a male body ought to be, and James broke out in gooseflesh, eager and impatient, but unable to move, feeling as though he'd been Petrified by the intensity of Teddy's gaze.

"Mine to be stretched by." Teddy pulled James's hand to his mouth and sucked on two of James's strong, thick fingers. He pulled them out of his mouth with a delicately sensual _pop_. 

"Mine to fuck." Teddy ghosted his fingers across James's arse. James moaned, and pushed himself forward to rub his very hard cock against Teddy's thigh. 

"Mine to be fucked by." Teddy dropped to his knees, touching James's perineum and then rolling his balls gently in his hands. 

"God, fuck, Teddy, please," James moaned, looking down at the bloody perfect man on his knees before him. 

"Mine to suck," Teddy said so very quietly that James felt his hot breath on his cock more than he heard what he said. Teddy looked up at James, and slowly slid his tongue out, licking his lips first, before deliberately licking up the underside of James's cock. 

James cradled the back of Teddy's head with his hand, and his eyes fluttered closed as Teddy opened his mouth and took one very long, very slow, very perfect suck on James's prick. James whimpered at the loss when he pulled away. 

"Get on your knees, you little slut. I'm going to fuck your arse so hard you aren't going to want to get on your broom for a week." 

The threat—no— _promise_ , was so enticing that James forgot for a moment that his jeans were pooled around his ankles. He stumbled, almost falling flat, but caught himself just in time and got to his knees. His skin felt tight all over, and he was breathing heavily. 

Teddy stood in front of him, in full view, and slowly undressed. With each new patch of skin exposed, James got hungrier and more eager to lick Teddy, taste the salt of his skin, feel him sigh beneath his touch, feel his cock pulsing in his mouth. His need was so overwhelming that he reached down and gripped his cock, stroking back and forth. 

Teddy watched him, arching a brow in response. "Don't you dare come," he whispered.

Teddy undid his buckle and flies, and pulled his jeans and pants off in one motion. His cock was thick and heavy, bobbing against his stomach and leaving a trace of moisture behind each time. James licked his lips, and slowly sucked in his lower one, his mouth watering just looking at it. His body quivered, thinking about Teddy driving into him over and over again, his mouth, his arse, so deep that Teddy's balls slapped against him. 

Completely undressed now, Teddy stepped closer to James, his long, lean limbs looking even more so from James's perspective. His eyes were still very dark, his hair, which he had kept his natural dark blond, looked wild from James running his fingers through it earlier, and his cock, oh, God, his cock. James loved many things about Teddy, but his cock was worth mentioning again because the things that he could do with it were so utterly brilliant, it really was a thing of wonder. 

"God, I can't wait for you to fuck me," James breathed. 

"Good, because that's it from now on," Teddy said, looking down at James. "Have to remind you every, single, day. You're _mine_." Teddy's eyes flashed, and he smiled hungrily at James. 

"Lean against the sofa," Teddy said, motioning with his chin and a swift glance. James complied immediately, shifting on his knees and reaching across to grip the back of the cushions with both hands, his legs spread, body splayed and open. His balls and the base of his cock rubbed against the soft canvas, and he moaned at the slight bit of friction. 

Teddy nudged James's thighs further apart, put his hand flat on James's back, and pushed him down so his chest pressed against the seat of the couch. He gripped James's arse with both hands, spreading his cheeks apart. James felt a cool draft, but the sensation was short lived as soon Teddy's warm, wet tongue licked down the length of his crack and swirled around James's entrance. It felt so bloody good that James moaned something completely inarticulate, even to himself. 

Teddy's chuckled, and the vibration from it rumbled through James's body. James moaned again, pushing back against Teddy's mouth, and pressed his forehead against the cushion, his breath coming fast. 

Teddy's tongue slid inside him, and James gasped, rocking his hips, but groaned a moment later when Teddy pulled away. Teddy shushed him, and James heard a squeak from the sofa-side table drawer where they kept a bottle of lube, one of several stowed in various places around the flat. 

"I hardly have the patience for this right now," Teddy huffed as he slid two slicked fingers into James's arse. "Want to be in you."

James turned his head, looking back over his shoulder. "Then get on with it." 

Teddy narrowed his eyes, pulled his hand from James's arse, and then swiftly smacked his backside. 

"Jesus! What was that for?" James yelped, the force of it unexpectedly throwing him forward against the cushions. 

"Don't talk back, Jamie," Teddy growled. "I think five more should remind you how to behave." 

James buried his face in the sofa cushion to hide the little grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He loved this sort of thing from Teddy. He could never tolerate it with anyone else, but with Teddy he would be anything he wanted him to be. 

_Smack!_ Teddy spanked James again on the exact spot he had before; it stung, and James hissed, thrusting forward reflexively. 

"Hold still," Teddy whispered. He pushed James's chest flat to the cushion, keeping his hand firmly on the middle of his back to hold him down. James tightened his grip on the end of the cushion, his knuckles turning white. 

_Smack!_ James did his best to move, but Teddy only pushed harder. 

_Smack!_ Only two more. James steeled himself; he wouldn't move an inch for the last two. 

_Smack! Smack!_

They came in quick succession. After the last one, James let out a long slow breath, the tension from holding so still flowing out of his body. 

_SMACK!_

"Ouch!" James cried out, practically lunging forward. That was unexpected and he hadn't been prepared for that at all. "Teddy!"

"Did I say five? I meant six," Teddy said wickedly as he inched between James's knees and nudged his crevice with his slick cock. 

Teddy wrapped an arm possessively around James's chest and slowly slid into him. It burned so much, James's eyes watered. He and Teddy had been so impatient that James wasn't completely stretched, and his arse cheeks still stung. Ah well; in for Knut, in for a Galleon…

"Harder," James begged, knowing the sooner Teddy was fully in him, the sooner the burn would ease, more pleasure than pain. 

Teddy snapped his hips sharply, grunting as he drove into James, just like James needed, fucking him roughly, James's thighs chafing as they rubbed against the couch. 

Panting overtook any sort of talking as Teddy rubbed his hand across James's sweaty chest and rolled his left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. James moaned, trying to thrust his cock against the couch, and finally reached down to grip it with his hand. 

"Let me," Teddy puffed in James's ear. James arched his back as Teddy slid his hand to James's cock, and stroked him in time with his thrusts. 

Teddy's dexterity was always unbelievable. If James had that sort of talent, he didn't think he'd ever stop wanking.

"Sit back on me," Teddy said abruptly. 

"What?" James replied. 

"I'm not cleaning come off that sofa _again_." Teddy pulled James back with him as he spread his thighs and sat back on his heels in a half-squat. 

Teddy pulled erratically on James's cock as he got closer. "Oh, fuck—"

James felt the hot rush of Teddy coming inside him, and that was all it took. James half-gasped, half-groaned as he came, spilling on Teddy's hand, his thighs, and a tiny bit on the rug, but as they discovered later, not a drop on the sofa.

Sweaty and trembling, Teddy muttered a swift cleaning charm, and they climbed up on the sofa, throwing the back cushions off so they could both fit easily as they lay down together. 

James kissed Teddy and softly said, "You know I never really wanted any of those other blokes. Just you. It was only a game." 

"I think I can recognize one when I see it," Teddy said, tracing the outline of the bite mark on James's neck and tickling his arse, which was no doubt red. "But I admit, I was a little curious, whether everything was out of your system." 

He looked at Teddy then, and gently kissed the tip of his chin, rubbing his cheek against the soft stubble. "No matter who it is you look like, it's always you, you know. I never think of it as anyone else. Wouldn't want to." James couldn't see Teddy's face clearly but he could tell from the arch of his cheek that he was smiling. 

"So—er—" Teddy wiggled, suddenly seeming uncomfortable with whatever it was he wanted to say next. James loved this dichotomy in Teddy; saying and doing all manner of self-assured things to him one moment, and in the next, being almost shy. "Albus was upset that _Scorpius_ was looking at you in a particular way?" 

"Mmm. Apparently, _Scorpius_ is in love with me. It's written all over his face when he looks at me," James said arrogantly. "And really who could blame him? I fucked him so well, he forgot his name." 

"That's not true," Teddy said indignantly, poking James in the ribs. 

"Ow, ow, stop, sorry!" James squirmed and laughed. "At any rate, let's hope Scorpius is all sorted out now. Can't have him in love with me—you wouldn't stand for that." Teddy poked James again for that comment, and James just laughed and held Teddy closer. 

Teddy leaned away from James for a moment, reached for his wand, and Summoned their camera from the bedroom. He snuggled in close to James, putting their faces together. 

"What the hell are you doing?" James asked. 

Teddy held the camera aloft, the lens pointing down at them. 

"One last picture for Al's collection. The series won't be worth much unless you can see the whole picture."

_Click_


End file.
